She wasn’t ashamed to say that his approval made her want to lick all the ink on his arms. It just did. Fact of nature.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Marlee pulled a little glass bottle of vodka from her cleavage and took a sip.
Eli raised his eyebrows.
“Want some?” She offered the bottle to him.
He set his beer aside, wrapped his lips around the shooter, and tilted it onto his tongue. Her own lips went dry, and her salivary glands kicked into overdrive.
The static buzz she’d been feeling around him intensified. She could’ve sworn he was going to kiss her. Lean in. Press his mouth to hers. And she bet he tasted amazing.
“Check it out, this one makes your dick look like a tuxedo.” Eli broke free of the moment, passed her the vodka, and grabbed one of the condoms on the rack next to her, holding up the package.
With the moment effectively fractured, she re-capped the shooter, tucked it back in her cleavage, and sauntered to the other side of the display.
“That’s better than the SpongeBob one.” Marlee held up the offending condom. “I’m just saying that if your penis is dressed like a cartoon character, it’s not getting anywhere near my pineapple under the sea,” she continued.
Eli started whistling theSpongeBob SquarePantstheme song.
“Don’t let my brother anywhere near your pineapple.” Sadie emerged from the curtain separating the front area from the tattoo table in the back.
“No one is getting near my pineapple for a very long time,” Marlee assured. Not that anyone had been under the sea for a while—not since what seemed like forever ago when Scotty decreed they should push pause on that portion of their relationship so their wedding night would be even more special.
“But when they do, they should be wearing a tuxedo.” Sadie grabbed the tuxedo condom from Eli and tossed it to Marlee. “My treat. I’ll have them add it to the bill.”
Marlee held up the plastic-wrapped condom. “You’re always so thoughtful.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Sadie replied, her head tilted to the side.
Marlee tucked the condom in her bra, next to her phone.
“How much shit can you fit in there?” Eli asked, staring at her chest. He wasn’t staring inappropriately, more like he was genuinely asking the question.
“There’s not that much,” Marlee said. “It’s easier than carting around a second purse.”
“Because your first purse is reserved for the dog,” Eli confirmed.
Well, yes. She pressed her eyebrows together and nodded at him.
“Eli, are you sure you don’t want to reconsider a real tattoo?” Sadie tilted her ankle to admire the fresh little heart tat.
“Eli already has his tattoo,” Eli replied, gesturing to his face.
“That hardly counts.” Sadie dropped beside Lothario on the imitation leather sofa. “Don’t you want something permanent to remember your first girls’ trip?”
“Not particularly.” Eli was acting all aloof. “But I will take a SpongeBob condom. You never know when a lucky lady may be in the mood for cartoon sex.”
Eli acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Marlee knew him better than that. He pushed people away, sure. The first inkling that someone needed him, though? He was right there. Case in point? Marlee’s house that morning. Second case in point? This trip.
“Eli won’t need the tattoo. He’ll always have the memories, won’t you, Eli?” Marlee asked.
“Memories and approximately four weeks of a face tattoo.” He lifted his beer to her.
Becca emerged from the curtain next. “Okay, so we’ve done the dancing and the tattoos. The dare game has been fun, but I think it’s time to say goodbye.”
“Agreed,” Eli mumbled.
“For our next game, we’ll all hang out at the Luxor and try to pick up members of the Blue Man Group. First one to get laid with a blue dick wins.” She followed her declaration of the game with a dance move fitting of the pole.
